Chapter Text
You sat on the cool tile floor, your head in your hands as you tried to take deep even breaths. It was quiet in the bunker, and you tried to focus on anything but the silence surrounding you. Two minutes. You closed your eyes and counted the drips leaking from the bathroom sink 11…. 12…. 13…. 14 you stopped to look at the timer on your phone. One minute. Pulling your legs to your chest you let out a shaky breath. You went back to counting…. 20…21…22. The familiar sound of your timer going off told you that your two minutes were up. There was a good chance that your life was never going to be the same again. You inhaled deeply, taking a minute to calm yourself before you picked up the offending piece of plastic. You felt the tears forming in the corners of your eyes and you could find it in you to hold them back. Two lines. Pregnant.
Your hands found their way to your stomach. Even though you weren’t showing yet, simply knowing there was a little person inside you gave you Goosebumps. The corner of your mouth turned up on a small smile and you found yourself happy. You had always wanted a baby. Always wanted a family and a home, but living the life of a hunter never gave you that opportunity. That train of thought came screeching to a halt and you suddenly heard Deans voice in your head. The hunting life was not a place to raise a child. Dean didn’t open up about much, but it was clear that part of him hated his father for raising him and Sam in the life. Always being on the road, never staying in one place for more than a couple of months. You thought about how Dean would react to being a father. He would try to do what was right. He would try to settle down and stop hunting, but that’s not him, it never would be. He would eventually get the itch and would leave to save the world once again, not being able to resist the warrior blood that ran through his veins. It would tear him apart, having to choose between the two lives, and you didn’t think you could watch the man you love turn into someone he hated. You wouldn’t do that to him.
Within an hour, your car was loaded down with what little you owned. You stopped on your way out, looking into the cozy interior of the bunker, and fought the urge to unpack and abandon the entire plan. You shook your head, throwing the idea out the window before it could take root. You were doing the right thing. It was hard, but you had already made up your mind. You turned around and gripped the knob in your hand, taking a moment to memorize the shape and the way the metal felt under your fingers as they moved across its smooth surface. Taking a steadying breath, you closed the door behind you. And you didn’t look back.
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“Y/N!” Dean called out as he stepped into the bunker. The supply run had only taken a few hours, but it had felt like years since he had seen you. He was looking forward to wrapping you up in his arms and not letting go until he absolutely had to. Not hearing a response, he moved further into the library, then the kitchen, only stopping to place the bags from the grocery store on the counter. He would come back later to put them away, but finding you was the first item on his list.
“(Y/N)? Where are you babe? Listen, I picked up some Nutella and Sour Patch Kids while I was out.” Moving through the hallways, occasionally poking his head in a random room in case you were in there, he made his way to the bedroom that the two of you shared. “I know that you have had a sweet tooth lately so I bought some chocolate bars too….” His voice trailed off when he arrived at the room, only to find it oddly empty. The small amount of things that you had were gone, including the photo of you and your dad that had always been on top of the dresser.
Dean felt like his heart shattered in his chest. That picture was your most treasured possession, and he knew for a fact that you wouldn’t go anywhere without it. He didn’t have to look in the closet and drawers for your clothes because he knew that they wouldn’t be there. He sat down on the edge of the bed, placing his hands on the mattress to steady himself. The sound of paper being crinkled brought his attention to his left hand, which now held a small note in it.
“Dean? Did you find her? Because I really want to show her…” Sam came to a standstill outside of the door, pausing to take in the sight of his older brother. Dean looked lost inside himself. “Dean?” Standing, Dean made his way towards the door, head hung low, coming to a stop in front of his brother. He didn’t look him in the eye. Dean simply held out his hand and waited for Sam to take the note.
“She’s gone Sammy.” Confused Sam glanced down at the piece of paper in his hand as Dean silently pushed past him and left the room. He read two words. I’m sorry.